


La Malade

by Itachi_S_Lucius



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - 19th Century, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Horror, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood and Torture, Bottom Uzumaki Naruto, Cruelty, Femininity, Gothic, M/M, Nobility, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-03-30 19:11:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13958142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itachi_S_Lucius/pseuds/Itachi_S_Lucius
Summary: Rupture thy heart for I do swear monogamy to my lover. Eternal shall it be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning to all, this gets dark. I haven't really gotten the chance to display the darker side of my literature before, so here it is. Simply put, I have always loved Vampire novels. For all those who are yet unaware this will be nothing akin to Twilight or its sequels. Read at your own risk. Rating may change as darker themes are introduced.

Karin Uzumaki was by no means a gossip, even among women her age, she never pryed, for she held no particular inclination towards such action. However, the young man she was presently focusing her thoughts upon was the alternate type. While not in relations or even attuned onto the social powers of gossiping  _ ton  _ he was a social power within their small group of servants. He was an odd one though, and no one could disregard that simplistic fact, the Lady of the House liked him well enough and indulged him in his almost fanatical ways. 

Being a kind man, he would always seek to aid those around him, though Karin knew that were he born into higher a station he would be one of the more magnanimous persons within the  _ ton  _ or indeed as someone of middle class. Naruto, or Naru, as he was called among them was an open and eccentric man, if not slightly brash and unobserved at times, he held the wit of a servant that much was to be sure, however he had a type of odd grace that never left him which made him appear as a noble would. 

He was not a calm individual by any means which did separate him slightly from his impressive personification of a noble, he was loud and clumsy, and thus did not carry with him the air of nobility or good status. It was the way he carried himself and thought of certain things in such a light that Karin herself sometimes stood aghast at his intelligent analysis. True, he did not carry the air nor poise of a noble, but what he lacked in position and calm presentation, he regained equally in loving nature, and fierce passion which made one think he ought to be a part of the  _ ton  _ regardless of the reality. 

“How now! Our noblewoman has arrived!” Came a shout from the kitchen, and Karin glanced from her polishing's to see said man walk through the kitchen doors, a basin of laundry resting on his shoulder and a scowl on his marked face.

“Quiet you! I am no lady!” In response as he walked by the other servant brushed by him in a way not well intended. Which had the poor lad sputtering in discontent. 

“Karin! Honestly, listen to their fodder! I am no woman no matter my garments, honest, you do not think such things do you?” He said, his eyes clear on the doorway where the other had just passed through, something she could not see causing a flush to his neck. 

“Oh now love, no need to rile yourself up now, ‘ee got a keen eye for the pretty one’s that man, best take it as a compliment.” She answered, and was given a generous stare in return, still the man did not waste more time in heading to the gardens to do the wash. 

Karin did have eyes herself, and was not blind to beauty when she saw it, and while she was by no means attracted to his clothing choice, she was aware that he was quite the gem to the eye for many young gentlemen among the household, and indeed outside these walls, when he saw fit to pilfer out. 

With tight curled hair one would find more common of someone of darker tone, peaking under a white lace and cotton bonnet as sunshine through the trees. A simple maid’s dress of black with a white apron over top to avoid the spills, and what Karin had no doubts of a corset hidden underneath. He was rather plain in attire, it was his beauty that attracted so many a stare. With skin of a slightly golden yet almost brown colour, and eyes of bright bay blue, he held under his clothing; a slender figure that put the ladies of the manor to shame, and muscles from years of servitude that made many of the visiting gentlemen who saw him lose a slight bit of their pride. Naruto was quite the exquisite man, were it not for the fact that his skin tone was not as pale as what was considered desirable, and were his face not marked with scars he would have been sold to the trade, Karin thought. He would have gained quite the profit too, if done discreetly. 

Although his personality did hinder that prospect. As by nature, he was simply to brash, too witty, and rather had the mindset of a child, with wonderment in his eyes, which was not desired. Needless to say, nor were his affinity to prank any who crossed him with a bucket of ice cold soup water or a piece of molded bread within the new at breakfast. Karin believed herself to be one of the few fortunate as she had never been the focus of his ire. 

Indeed Naruto was a unique bird amongst them boring squirrels. Still Karin could only hope he refrained from being quite so eccentric whence the young Master of the house; Duke Willard “Madara” Dregen nee-Uchiha visited later this evening. Whom from what she had heard was quite the stern man, with a history within the royal navy, someone she was sure, not to be crossed in any regard, and despite his good intentions and kind nature, Naruto was almost certain to achieve such a thing.

Still in a manner unbefitting of any man, Naruto was acting today as if he had been blessed with a great gift, his smiles ever so wider, his skin aglow with something that Karin could scarcely identify, however were she too guess, she would have to say it was the jubilation of a courtship. Though many would have him, she had not heard rumours of any such union. For surely it would have spread over the grapevine by now if he had someone on his arm, no one was safe from the servant's eyes that was for certain, nearly as applicable was the fact that Naruto was quite popular around the estate and numerous property’s owned by the Dregen lineage. 

Which is what brought her to this circumstance now, standing just outside of the other’s ajar door, and peering inside as some sort of snoop. For shame! She chasened herself. 

Yet her eyes did not stray from the sight of a clearly besotted man dancing alone in his room to some sort of invisible ballroom dance. Not being particularly ignorant, Karin could recognize that it was a respectable form of waltz, not one that could be simply observed and copied, but instead one that must be taught for the footwork was a hassle and difficult to accommodate. However, by the way her companion was swaying, angling himself in the most elegant of stride’s it would appear that he had indeed been taught. Though the red haired woman could not think of one person he would have learned it from. Perhaps, she concluded, perhaps he does have a secret lover, one of higher status? 

Despite her own prided self-control, for someone like Naruto whom she had known many years, and who she had admired for nearly all of those years, she could not simply ignore such a mystery. Naruto was one of the few of the household with recognition among the nobles, with the grace and demeanor fitting of the  _ ton  _ and a outgoing personality only a serving boy could bare. He was someone who other servants, such as herself, aspired to be. So in light of this understanding, and despite her rather coy nature amongst gossip, her mind drove her to know more, as much as she could from the strange boy. 

It was upon this mindset, that she burst into her idol’s room without a hint of hesitation, with a lit flame lingering in her red eyes, and a slight breeze from her rather forceful entrance.  

Of course the banging of the door, and with the sudden entrance of a fellow servant, Karin watched as the boy, lost his footing as he jumped, and slipped upon a patch of dirtied water laying from the bison in his room, landing rather ungracefully on his rear end in the middle of his floor. 

“Karin! What has got you so riled?! I could have hurt my head were I any more clumsy then I am.” Although said in an angered tone, the polite demeanor remained, and his refined way of speaking did not cease, which was strange in Karin’s view as she was sure he once had all the manners of she when he had been here just a year ago. That being said, he had been in the Western estate for nearly a year before now and had only recently returned four months ago from his trip. Perhaps he had picked up on the tongue of some passing noble there, it wasn’t exactly hidden knowledge that the Western estate was one frequented by the many acquaintances of the Dregen’s. In any case it wasn’t a inconceivable notion.

“Quite the dance you got there, where’d a young lad as yourself pick up such a fancy step?” Something in resemblance to a guilty expression, as he cast his aquamarine eyes down and bit his lower lip in hesitation, such action made the young woman very aware of the fact that she had captured at least part of the reason for her companion's strange mannerisms as of late. While it was not astonishing that of everyone Naruto would manage to find himself a lover within a higher circle, it was the petty socially driven side of herself that did stop the redhead from aiding her coworker from his position on his floor, even if it had been of her doing that he had fallen at all. 

To his credit, he gave her no under edged glare and no frown emerged on his pretty features. Instead he stood with all the grace she envied, and offered only a smile. Unnaturally beautiful as he was Karin could not help her gut from filling with a pull of anger before she stifled it with her rational mind, it wouldn’t do to yell at someone who got rotated from estate to estate as Naruto did. He obviously had favour with the Master’s and Mistress of the House. Other then that it wasn’t as if Naruto was unkind to her, quite the opposite and she often times acted like a spoiled child around him because of her jealous manner. She was lucky he never seemed to bare a grudge, at least, not upon her as of yet. 

“You asked of my dance? Well, I if do tell you such a secret, do you swear unto me that you will not tell another?”

“I am no gossiper Naru, even you ought to ‘ave picked up on that.” He gave a sharp nod as confirmation of this, yet, it was unmistakable that his hands were twisting around themselves in uncertainty, though there was a jitter to his leg which gave the impression of someone unwillingly holding back a secret. If nothing else, Karin reasoned to herself, she would promise solely for the boy to get the news off of his shoulders he did seem keen to tell someone at the very least. “I won’t say a word, now will ya tell me lad? Ya, look as a t’ief who've caught by ‘em palace guards.” As if having the opposite effect them what she had intended the boy’s small shoulders seemed to hunch over, and his head dropped suddenly. 

However whence she opened her mouth to apologize for anything she unintentionally said to upset him, she was swept -nearly off the floor- as she was tightly grasped into a sudden embrace, and blond curls were directly under her nose, near making her sneeze indignantly. 

“Oh Karin! You cannot possibly imagine! He is a romantic! A true romantic I say! His heart is that of a mountain, large and unyielding yet mysterious and hidden, his mind is as a trove of knowledge, and he looks upon me the way I have only read about in whimsical books. He would come to me at night, when no one wondered the halls, and pick me off my feet only to spin me in the halls as the moon gazed through the large windows of the estate. He taught me how to dance the way of a noble, and kissed my cheek in dim candlelight!” Cooed the quite infatuated servant, making clear onto the other maid that his secret was one truly not to be shared. 

Giving slightly to a more maternal nature the young woman worried herself who this other man could be, if he was one that Naruto should give his heart to, Naru was of special nature after all, and though Karin could attest avidly to his more sociable way of presentation it had not occurred to her that a lover could truly be the reason for his new persona. Oh, she had indeed entertained the thought of it, however, more in humour then true speculation, such a thought brought a chill into her very blood. It was more of the fact that he very well could be a far higher member of society then considered agreeable, and that was a frightening premise. 

Knowing how Naruto’s charms could work on a mere passing gentlemen of palate, her instinct inclined her to believe that Naru had attracted the attentions of a gentleman who was not of their class. As it were, though envious, Karin did not much enjoy the thought of a broken-hearted boy to tend to, though were it to come to that she had no qualms of aiding in his grief. As it were she simply did not delight in the idea that it was a possibility at all, she could hardly imagine herself fit to see someone so joyous taken in by the fire of pain and the ache of loneliness as she had, it would require strength of will she was uncertain she ascertained currently. 

Though in her more tender eye, she could see why Naruto would forfeit honour for a mere glimpse of love, he was a boy shrouded in mystery, his parent’s deaths notwithstanding, he held high place as a respected member of the household among both the serving crew and high class visitors alike. He held an almost natural place round them and could play host just as well as her ladyship could. Only lacking in the stifled idealizations those of the higher class held. He could not understand the need of covert dealings or practical relationships based on nothing more than lies and distrust between different ruling families. So even for someone such as her, with no practical knowledge of how to play host as Naru could, Karin was well aware that were the opportunity to present itself Naruto would jump into the arms of a charmed stranger without a thought of their intentions, for he simply could not see a reason to be nefarious. 

It was this lack of understanding and ignorance that drove Karin to believe that her companion was not aware of the implications that applied to having such an affair with someone from a more respectable form. She could only hope to suade him to be more cautious, for attempting anymore would only spark his ire, and dear Mary the boy had the temper of Agnus Finn when directly invoked. If not worse. Still, she stood concerned for his own welfare. 

Then of course there came a large resounding bang, breaking them both from their self-made contemplating silence. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Formed as inevitably by mere consequence of action; the Dregen family did ascend to a coveted position within the flocks of nobility. This: was due to the ignorance and incongruent ability of King Henry the Eighth of the Kingdom. With a near incompetent ability to have born a male heir in due course, his previous station of Dukedom had been left vacant. Doctrine did dictate that he be a man of faith and patience in waiting to recreate the title with one of good bearing to hold it. Albeit a fruitless hope of the crown and church as known for reckless action his Majesty did deliver with swift action what they preyed him to leave alone.

Speculation brought forth the proposition that the King had an infectious relation with one of the fair maidens of the Dregen household which was cause for his grant. Others were unsettled by the knowledge that the highest man in the land had gone senile in his corrosive pain. In frail health, it was considered his very last act of true kindness before his ailments completely banished all form of good manner. Still, the King in 1540, did declare that the youngest son of one of his most obliged Earls the eighteen year old Indra Dregen would become the new possessor of the title which Henry himself had held: that is as Duke of York. -Although at the time it was quandary as to why he did not pick the eldest son, the Queen at the time that is Anne of Cleves, was truly aware of her husband's reasoning. A reason of which, even after his death, she refused to disclose out of lawful loyalty to the crown.-

Respect of traditional form had lead this decision to be met with controversy, even presently. Persons of doubt however, are venemently swayed by the understanding that the House has held the title within many sons for -at its least- fourteen generations, that is of pure lineage.

Thorough, they had been near hanged whence there had been fervent religious dispute being the most outspoken of Prodecent, which angered Queen Mary the 1st with through passion. Often she would outcry their denial of Catholic values as disloyalty to the English crown. It was to her detriment that they were in a position for her to act without reprimand.

Their religious devotion did insure alliance with her sister, who did later ascend the throne. Queen Elizabeth the 1st of England regularly employed the Dregon's in her servous to dispose of rebelling Irish non-conformists. Tasks of a nature so non-descriptive in there horrors that they should be consigned to oblivion.

As matter of their much accumulated knowledge in politics and war, the many Dukes of York have had the ruling Monarch's ear for nearly three-hundred years.

In consideration with extensive and powerful historical fact: the young Naruto Uzumaki servant to the household was well aware of his own point of drastic irrelevance. For in grievous miscalculation the darker toned man had found himself within the grounds of a forbidden maze, as his spiraling affection for a man of such prospect did lead him to stray only further in. A question of his honour and true devotion to the family he served often plagued fragile and condemning thoughts. One can be very much certain of in what manner propriety guides them, inclination is far more a vast subject in the mind of a heart overridden by illustrious feelings of romance. In the longing caresses of elegant vocabulary, and spinning graces a man of good breeding afforded one born near into slavery; the deliverance of delirious romance. Forbidden and prude in nature, unbecoming of a man of faith and good conscious the Duke was a man untouchable in title alone. Yet in the aid of a frightful waltz, withering his soul for any other, Naruto had lost footing and fell for the noble in the way of a young and overeager maiden.

In a matter of silenced moments interlocked in the unassuming position of a dance, both of them had not strayed from the other's eyes, both enraptured by the depths they saw. Afterwards it had been the tales of a novel, evening of rendezvous by the virgin Mary, a moment abandoning the estate in seeking freedom from irefull eyes.

* * *

_Dearest Naruto,_

_I find myself in a troubled position. A man whom I have known to be of character and class has outspokenly declared an alliance with the institution of slavery. An act I cannot permit in good conscious to allow within the halls of my estate. You no doubt have heard of the strife caused by the Colonies and their unbecoming nature of limiting liberty encompassed by the bounds of reprehensible notion of superiority. He has bid onto me the telling's of his stride in support of the Confederate movement within the Colonies in form of monetary donations as attributed by -in his candid words 'a family of devout Catholicism.' My position of the institution of slavery remains firm; so scarred by our mars of the past we must strive forward in appreciation of all persons diverse least our country fall. Yet this man -whom I shall not name- is one of Mother's most loyal advisers, I am torn by morale of the most common of men, and the need for propriety. Mother's displeasure into the consequence of my action not a standing factor. I must turn to you, one whom I know to have the same views as me, whom I have loved devoutly without passion regardless of the tender brown tones of your skin, what would you do?_

_Ever in Your Favour_

_~ Madara_

* * *

The letter came on the date of May 2nd 1862 upon the leg of a well trained falcon as opposed to common post. The effort was to please the needs of secrecy, yet the skill of friendship the man held with birds was truly testament to his character. In the contents of the ink, inscrolled the eloquent calligraphy of the Duke's hand. Naruto did read without pause, and in seperation of the knowledge of the man condemned his mortality to lucifer with nothing more than a gaze. He wrote back with quick pace and measured patience.

* * *

_**Dear Madara** _

_**Your letter, -although I know you realize not the extent was flattering. For while it is not widely acknowledged outspokenly, there is a common understanding that people of your ethnicity do not seek the opinion of those borne in darker tones. Albeit mere coincidence that I should be of negro descent.** _

_**Continuing on in ignorance of bias tidings: Defending the limitation of freedom is a crime proportional to the slaughter of witches within our own English history, tarnished in prejudice and misunderstanding. The colonies -or the States as gossip reaches me- harbors the unique position of beginning an era of tolerance and patience unbesmirched by the stains of the Kingdom's many unwise actions in the wake of independence. Yet already they battle under the banner of discrimination; I fear for the sanctity of their future, should they forge ahead singularly.** _

_**I trust I have conveyed onto you my position on this matter. Your fellow is only aiding a grueling campaign that will end with unpleasant result for all within the next several decades. Should the South prevail: slavery becomes once more institutionalized then shall not dare to pain my mind on the consideration of the effect the new country shall suffer, under the legalization of a person losing place as human. He is no friend of mine, and my disposition remains clear, as such you shall be the one to forge his future. No doubt plagues me, as to the knowledge you will choose wisely.** _

_**In regard to another matter entirely, you will be staying within the London estate for the fall season yes? I eagerly await your arrival. As does the household all the maids have been whispering behind their hands in quandary as to your appearance. I hope for poor Obison, the man has not a moments peace his duties carry him around each ward several times a day, and he will frequently be ordered to town to make further preparations. Most of our cleaning staff aid little, to entranced by their gossiping thoughts and romantizations. Her Ladyship is in high spirits as well, although I presume that to be a regular occurrence when ones children visit. The estate is rampant with the spirit of festivity. As you can assume, I am no different, with the passing days I become eager for your voice, and plagued am I to wait for another dance -as you so promised, when we had parted so long ago.** _

_**Dancing in your Embrace** _

_**~Naruto** _

* * *

Her ladyship had brought with her a young man, a squire marked at five-foot-five, who spoke with the plainest of voices, an opinion on the values of local trade. He spoke of little else, and due to bland nature was ignored by most of the staff. His thin button waistcoat and tracked trousers of faded brown spoke not to the maids of the household. In fact his presence did install into the servants a feeling equal to that of observation through the shadows of an alley. It was of such abundance that the head of the keep, Obison had chosen to watch the man and mark his movements in a well hidden suspicion. With hope throughout the estate that the discomfort would be sorted upon the return of his Dukeship.

On the morn of his arrival a young launder maid by the name of Ino was hanging her wash on the line, perfectly content with her work well done, for although the sun had not fully risen, she had started her day earlier then usual. All preparation for the Duke's arrival. Although her load was unfinished, and the linen's were waiting in the bisan, her hands were already sore from the scrub she had just finished.

She as most of the house had been anticipating the arrival of the Duke, working with a diligence not commonly seen in order to sort all the rooms launder for his time at the house. Well within the estate, any fear of danger was near nonexistent, this instilled in all the staff the elation of confidence. However as she pinned the second corner of the fine red silken sheet did a sound distract her, having emerged from the doorway leading to the parlor, yet no figure could be seen. Being a lady of good nature, Ino pinned the last clip, and as silenced as she could peeked into the windows further. No one stood inside nor outside the room, and in confusion Ino turned hesitantly back to her wash. Upon seeing that the red silk she had only just hung had slipped free of one of the clips and fallen onto the dirt below.

Being alone, she let out a meager groan of frustration unbecoming of a lady, and stomped her foot as her work was put to shame by mere accident. As it so happened, being the time it was and due to the recent weather a fog hung low around the land, casting a longing landscape of peculiar beauty. Most of the wash was white, apart from the one crimson in the mix, it produced the obscure image of purity tarnished to the woman's eye.

In concert to her circumstance the young blonde lady undid the rest of the now sullied fabric to be washed again, and picked up her basket so that she could transport the next lot.

The laundry room was uncramped, however cold in part because of the day, and because it was below the house. Ino herself had never seen fit to complain. The sudden dampness soaking her shoes did shock her however, and the culprit? A turned over glass of water she had left unattended while having been outside. Most likely having been knocked off kilter as she had passed with he basket. Placing the treaded twine aside she uprighted the glass and cleaned the remaining liquid with her apron, sighing as she did so. A whole manner of things had gone wrong and with it being before late breakfast it spoke heavily of the remaining pace of the day. Unfortunately the lighting of the candles could not afford her to wash the dirt from the sheet in due course and she would have to wait patient before she could bring the machine out into daylight before she could start again.

Well enough for her, as a smile graced her face. For now she had the unique time to practice her skill at reading and writing. A gift her father had instilled in her, in part before his passing at her fourteenth year. Uncommon though it was, a woman who could write and read among men was far more desirable then one who couldn't, and as such would afford her the opportunity to marry a pleasant man of richer income and live comfortably. Yet as she plucked the small volume from her high shelf the mounted candle nearest the entranceway blew out. This was not unusual in the slightest, for although she was in the ground, the hallway just a little ways above her was not. The estate was one of inheritance and as older buildings are the hallways and windows were full of frightful drafts. Unfazed, she grabbed the mount nearest to her, and clutched at the lowest of the wax she could as to not scaled herself with the dripping wax. She was in the midst of placing the flame to the wick to light it once more when the candle over her work area blew out as well. An area not near to any source of wind.

The shock made her drop the stick she held and it broke on impact with the floor. Then in succession all illumination was gone from the room, and Ino was surrounded only by darkness and the rapid sounding of her own laboured breathing.

She felt around her for the handle, trying to exit into the hall as her fear had her hands shaking mighty she could hardly clasp upon the metal flap to open it. Time was only slightly not in her favour as just as she began to stumble through the arch a hand clasped upon her leg and had her swiftly collapsed on the topmost stairs. So quick she felt the pain far later then she felt the fall. Now panicked the woman attempted to scream for help, in understanding that someone was attacking her. Her leg flailed harshly trying to hit any target as to help her get free from the firm and painful grasp. A body could be clearly felt above hers as her head was suddenly impacted into the wooden stare, a pain erupting from her nose as cartilage broke, cutting her cry in half. The attacker stood and with them her leg moved up as well, showcasing her pantellons and modest crinoline. Shamed, in pain, and fearful of her life, the woman desperately attempted to pull herself forward. So that she could at the very least bang on the door. She was wrenched backwards and thrown back the steps. A sharp crack that was heard not felt filtered through the room, she landed at the bottom not moving. Unable to do so. Paralysation had inflicted her with the snapping of what she realized was her back. Fear set in quick as the steps drew closer, the thump on the wood getting so near that each of the footfalls was causing her to hyperventilate further.

Their stopping cast a long silence over the room, and Ino prayed the attacker could not find her in the dark of their own making. Fruitless as her panic painted clear the way. Unable to move as the body splayed above hers, nausea crept up her throat and she shut her eyes tight. A large male hand tugged at her long blonde hair, pulling at it painfully as her head was tilted up. Ino tried to hit him with her arms, but her strength wasn't there as pain began to set in. The other hand covered her mouth as she began to scream in earnest before her begging for aid was cut off by the snapping of her neck.

* * *

As the clock struck the twelfth hour, chimes of a dozen rung throughout, and a carriage of grand design pulled to the front. Indeed the Duke's arrival had been marked exactly at the time he had presumed he would arrive. All hands flew quickly as the staff made themselves scarce from the lobby, so that the butler and her Ladyship would be the only ones to greet the man. That is to say that heads did not peek out from the corners of doorways, and peering eyes could be seen curiously from the balcony.

Obison opened the door with a polite bow, stoic in his expression. The man who stepped in was a vision, not at all what anyone had expected. Even his Mother dropped her calm demeanor for a moment in disbelief, no matter as she held it aloft only moments after. For although Duke Willard was of good -fine one could argue- grooming his visage was not that of a noblemen, in anything other then dress. In opposition to a respectable man of his station he had no facial hair to speak of, and instead of being cut short the man had adopted the long hair of a century past hanging down his back in the straightest of forms and held back with a slight large, drooping crimson ribbon from the center of at the back of his head. He did bare a commendable top hat with a knot of similar crimson and a cane carved by expert hands. His hands were gloved and respectable white as he took off his headwear, and gave a kind bow to his Mother.

The Duke of York had come to London.


	3. La Revelation

Her Ladyship had been in a state of continuous preparation, not only for arrival and receiving, but indeed in true respectable fashion had organized a small ball. As the family was one of near continuous reclusion, it had been suggested to her that a small party would be needed once her son became of a more suitable age. This would ensure she could showcase local women of propriety, with clear prospects and dowry's that glittered for her son to be thoroughly swayed by. One of whom she could intrust her tile, lands and the safety of her trust. While her son retained the title she held most of the sway under her late husband’s reputation, bringing with notoriety an ability to intimidate without provocation or true threat. Her child did not yet possess the knowledge of how to properly introduce a stern fear of influence within people who were unagreeable, though she was placated marginally by the aura he carried of power; such as his father had before him.

“Mother, you look stunning.” He spoke of course in respectful tidings, as one should greet their mother, Still there was no falsehood, she had designed to dress herself plainly, yet her dress was crafted with the colours more vibrant then the common gown, and her hair was done with jewels of emerald green and silver adornments in her think raven toned upheld hair.

It was not without passion that she provided the illustrious entertainment and befitting brides for her sons disposal, her confidence in his ability was not one of speculation. In fact her assurance of her son’s competent ability to lead the line without reproachful whimsy was such that she had seen no issue in the indulgence of her loyalist staff, and had in turn of good favour granted them an extra allowance for some finer clothes so that they too might join in the festivities. Assured that Willard would pick a women of good breeding for his evening partner without straying to the many pretty servants that made her staff.

In seeing his mother producing the eye of regard as she so often assumed when installed in one of her many mental entrapping's, and cunning maneuvering that so often lended him the courtesy of public inquiry did he shake himself in solemn self condemnation. Using it as platform for his wandering eyes, searching for that of the most fantastical fairy wing blue, or hair possessing all of the elegance as the many marigolds around the east most side of the estate. His eyes latched to nothing, and the stern longing for the escape of endless a sea was profound in his mind. Through the elaboration of his mother’s musings of matrimony and grandchildren did secure a dread in its place. So, indeed, that was something.

Breaking from tranquil normalcy a scream, shrill and horrid petrified his mothers steps, and caused him to stubble ungracefully in attempt not to force her legs forward. With hardly a thought or preamble he took to running in the direction, no concern for conduct or the vase he knocked while racing forth.

They found upon reaching the corridor a maid seeking shelter in her knees, trembling in the most terrible fashion, Next to her huddled form the door leading downwards into the laundry room was kept open, naturally mother and son reached fast conclusion that whatever was downwards had frightened the young lady. Her Ladyship rose her chin and stalked forward, placing a gentle hand on the scared woman, gesturing to her son without words to seek the reason. Appearing through various doorways the staff slowly emerged, curious, and concerned for their fellow. Among them all one ran to the stricken maid.

“Karin! What happened?” There was a frantic murmuring, as the unofficial head maid asked, all not certain how to proceed without proving indelicate. Obision -or, Obito, as Madara referred to him, came from the same room and with a mere gesture told all present to move along for the time being.

The action was taken with clear reproach, none wanting to leave without a clear thing to blame for the fear instilled. However, under orders they obeyed, some attempting to move backward the head maid, a useless effort and all were aware of it.

He was stuck fast to the woman as if bound, unlike the others around him, of his station, his hands did not quiver in uncertainty. Seeing this, and knowing her staff well her Ladyship dismissed the others merely in holding up her hand.

Once they had left did the young maid, whom Madara knew well, rose from his frantic state on the floor, becoming once more the near regal distinguished man that had enticed Madara into that first dance. A firm glare to his expression that did not waver.

“Your Ladyship,” he greeted, though his hands gripped the silver candlestick as he spoke. Understanding his intent the Duke tilted his head, measuring a respectful smile as to not imply anything without words.

“May I accompany you down?” At first there was a cautious gleam, however, in recognition: a blush stole his cheeks, yet he remained firm regardless.

“I cannot your Lordship. It could be dangerous.” That caught his attention, brokering a more serious response. The maid was keen eyes, and known for his loyalty to their family.

“Should there be, then I would be a poor man to allow you to venture within unaided.” There was no further protest from the dark toned man. Yet his hand gripped firmer than previously. With not another word, they two descended into the laundry room, the Duke following close behind the young maid the steps far to steep and narrow to risk going down side-by-side.

“Ino?” He whispered, the room was light from the open door. The only shadows were from the staircase, They did nothing to obscure the bare reality their eyes became subjected to. The lady was positioned with no grace, sprawled on the floor with arms and legs in no one direction. Her head towards them, with bleak eyes grey as storm clouds, her long hair, having been previously held tightly was now around her and from the left side it had been freckled with blood. Seeped from the wound on her neck, clearly torn away skin, exposing the muscles and artery of the neck, the muscle appearing brown instead of red.

The Duke offered as much privacy as he could, closing his eyes to the gruesome sight, and instead sealing himself to comfort his partner, whom for all his strength was shaking quietly, arms around himself, candlestick forgotten on the ground. Though the sight hadn’t seemed to have fully grasped him, he remained staring and affixed to her corpse, even as his breaths sped up in panicked realization.

Whispering to insure he did not frighten or unwittingly break the trance-like state of silence, the Duke moved just the slightest bit closer, wanting more than words could convey to embrace the other man. Inside its cage his own heart was racing in grievance, in concern that he could not quell by merely brushing aside the issue. “Naruto?” It did nothing, and worse yet, the boy had begun to mutter silent pleas to the heavens for safety. Daring to venture a little outside of the bounds of propriety, Madara brushed the curled hair on the maids forehead away. The mutters come to a standstill, and the blue eyes closed, silence encapsulated the room, the breeze against the shutters, the dripping of water from a knocked over basin.

Tears never came. Instead, there were haunted words of a man who had seen death, and the mourning finality of a mind warped by the mortality of someone dear.

“It’s beastly.” When spoken through the whispered lips of a pained man, it became ominous in meaning, not merely observance but a warning to self and all from a fate such as this. In hushed tone and poignant words the lead maid began “God our Father, Your power brings us to birth, Your providence guides our lives, and by Your command we return to dust. Lord, those who die still live in Your presence, their lives change but do not end. I pray in hope for my family, relatives and friends, and for all the dead known to You alone. In company with Christ, Who died and now lives, may they rejoice in Your kingdom, where all our tears are wiped away. Unite us together again in one family, to sing Your praise forever and ever. Amen.” Not hiding his surprise the duke responded without reproach.

“I did not take you for one of faith.” Not casing his eyes to gaze, the man continued to stare at the body, a neutral expression upon him, crept by darkened thoughts, stoic and so unlike his nature.

“I am not. I merely knew nothing more to be done for her.” Madara said nothing, in respect for the dead, he knew no prayer or hymn to soothe himself, nor the victim. There was nothing to be done, as Naruto had said. Still he wanted not to look at the body, it was too horrid a sight, and it had his gut in tangles. Beside him, his lover grave a great breath calling sharp sound, and fastly looked away. Appearing to need to amass courage to do so, his head snapping to the right at a speed that had the duke hit by its trajectory in slight. What gripped his attention however, was the hand grasping his own, tightly bound by the fingers, and not able to move appendages under the pain of the hold. He had no complaint though. “She was my friend.” This time, his voice did break, so quiet that he had hardly heard the fracture.

“I know.” He recalled the name spoken of during one of their many late walks, excited and jittery with the bonds of friendship held strong between them, reverent in good tides and found memories.

“She had paid for her evening gown in advance.” More and more, did his posture crumple in upon itself, falling into the Duke’s as his very reason for standing upright began to escape the maid, or so it seemed. Listlessness clouded his very eyes, vacant now, in understanding of his friend’s passing. Madara held him as upright as he could, listening all the while to the quiet mumbles that man shared. It was not an easy task to ignore the corpse at the bottom of the stairs, however through a git-like determination and a conviction to not see, he ventured up the staircase. He had swapped hands, now securing his lover with the hand closest to him, and holding the need for comfort with his furthest. Becoming a clutch as they ascended.

His mother waited away from the door, nervous hands twinning in her fine lace gloves. The other maid, with the crimson hair was standing now too, though her eyes were haunted, her lips were pierced with pure bravery. In the most proper way he could, the Duke said little to nothing, only that one of the staff was dead, murdered, and left to escort the scarred man from the area. It was polite, and his mother made no fuss under the information received,

Clinging in desperation, he brought the young maid, to the gardens where the supple smell of flowers could best soothe the mind. However, his eyes made quick work of the landscape judging if anyone was near. A threat unprovoked and unhindered by morality, could present itself to any unsuspecting victim. Especially considering the now reclusive state of his lover, downcast and hardly in a position for self defense. He sat them down on the middle most bench, still connecting to the cobblestone path, closed from the windows but not far from their limited view. Among the flowers, and hidden by the trimmed bushes. Under the vibrancy of the green plants, the blossom of the flowers, Madara could not help but observe that the man he loved shone within the sun more then anything else.

“What colour was her gown to be?” He said, grasping at it, and handing it to the now weeping man, not at all aware that he was doing so, until the white cloth got put before him.

“A delicate blue as I recall, her hair was so very light I thought it only common sense that she should want for something pale, as to accent her eyes properly.” Naruto dabbed at his eyes, looking about the garden as to see if they were truly alone, before sitting a slight bit closer to the duke then conduct commanded. “Blue is such a maiden like colour, don’t you agree?” His voice stung in the air, silent desperation, a weeping tear as if the flowers themselves could feel the depression within the aura of his mind.

This had Madara pause himself in a moment of grand revelation, though a conclusion of certain proportions his mind raced to the ideal, and it did stick in his head. Loud and calamitous, exiled and dangerous, however, not unseemly. “Naruto.” Addressed the man, careful in his wording as he was with his posture, tamed and controlled, while easy and comfortable for his condry. “Do you wish to be… A maiden, a… woman?” It had been heard of before after all, in fact Madara recalled a meeting with a young gentleman whom was in fact a woman baring man's clothes in one of his many collaborations for the crown, he had said nothing in discourse, it not having been his place. Now he felt a slightly different inclination. Although the manner in which he conducted himself upon receiving the question answered for him plainly. Fear so ripe it could be scented from the very air.

“Of course not! I am not some strange confused!-”

“Calm yourself.” As a resort to stop the man from charging away in panic, Madara grasped his arms in an attempt to slow his mind, the defense so strongly put forth convincing him as nothing else would have: that his assumption had not been mistaken. In this realization, he had no time to adapt to the idea. Only his understanding of self in emotion, the acknowledgement that he loved this person was a weight upon his shoulders he could not truly expel. Perhaps to the common man, to the righteous noble, it was strange or disorderly, sinful in God’s creation. However, Madara could not find himself caring for whatever nonsense the Catholic faith thought to this, he was well his own man, not beholden to the laws of another man -be that god or any other. So instead of violent altercation, he held his lover’s hands, and waited for a true response. For in knowing, he knew nothing, it was not his decisions that ruled Naruto’s life.

Something in him must have purveyed a rationality that held his lover still from fear. He spoke quietly and quickly. “It is not appropriate. I could never….” Was all he said, and in this Madara knew his own role. He stood the gloved hands in his rising with him, as did his partner.

“I will follow how you guide. Should I acknowledge you as a man?” This was steady, he needn’t overwhelm, in response, Naruto smiled and it was coy, so very nervous, yet a twinge of blush shone under his cheeks. Pleased that they were not at odds, that someone was asking what he desired.

“Yes, acknowledge me as a man for the view of everyone else… However, if you could do me the kindness of- of, treating me as a woman? I would be most pleased.” To this, the Duke in all his fine education blushed as a maiden himself. Wishing only to kiss at those coy lips the smile that teased, but knowing now that it would be indecorous of him. Instead he kissed at one of the hands he held, a smile filtering through him nevertheless. With eyes to the windows for but a brief moment, he rose once more and bowed in proper posturing.

“As you wish Milady.”

With this he gained a slap on his bicep, and one of the most wonderful sounded a man such as himself could hear. A joyful giggle, in the wake of tragedy.

 

 

 


End file.
